


Stupid Piercing - Frerard

by Blue_kangaroo



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:52:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_kangaroo/pseuds/Blue_kangaroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's new piercing's giving him shit, but as always, Gerard's there to make it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Piercing - Frerard

"Get a lip ring!" They said.

"It'll be painless!" They said. 

Frank Iero was currently occupied dabbing some stupid-ass-special-alcohol shit on his abnormally warm face. His lip fucking hurt, and he'd decided long ago that the world is full of liars, losers, and cheap bastards. He pulled a clean cotton square out of the box - that was doomed to be empty by the end of another week - and squirted more of the stinging solution into it. Gingerly bringing it to his inflamed lip, he mentally cursed everything he could think of. Which, not surprisingly, wasn't very much at that exact moment. It didn't do much to ease the cold burning on his face. The bottle of shit was worthless.  He sighed a few louder swears and threw away the trash, now resigned to at least trying to believe they hadn't lied when they'd said the end of two weeks should be better.

"Is it any better yet?" Gerard asked, coming to stand in the bathroom doorway. Frank scowled at the offending piercing, resulting in crossing his eyes, in a way that would've made his bandmate laugh, had he not been in such an agonizing state. Gerard suppressed the urge to giggle at his slightly shorter friend's expression and pouted sympathetically. "They did say two weeks though, and it's only been one, so that's something?" He reasoned.  "I guess so." Frank agreed grudgingly. He didn't blame Gerard, no he couldn't have. It wasn't anyone's fault except his, and the liars who worked at, the tattooed punk hated to admit: Claire's.

He should've known not to trust a sissy store with a name like that anyway.

He shuffled out of the hotel bathroom and plopped onto the bed, aiming to be as dejected as possible and doing a decent job of it. His face felt like shit and fire, and he intended to milk it for all its current worth.

Gerard sank into the standard, shitty bed comforter beside him and glanced at the tv. The weatherman (fucker never knew anything, to be honest) was all excited about some big-ass downpour about to hit up north. But they weren't up north so he didn't bother to give a shit. He moved his gaze to the wounded puppy beside him, taking a moment to not laugh at Frank's pouty face. He hadn't exactly encouraged Frankie to get the lip ring.  Thank goodness, because the little shit would've blamed him for the past week's pain and "never forgiven him ever." (Though he knew full well that no one was convincing the stubborn little Jersey punk to do anything he didn't want to do.) But of course now that he'd gone and done the thing Gerard decided it looked pretty good. Pretty great, actually. Once he stopped whining about it and it healed up, Gerard even bet it might be fun to mess with during future potential "stage gay" moments. He laughed to himself, thinking of how crazy the crowd got last time.

You see, Gerard and Frank weren't lying. They weren't hiding anything. But they weren't dating. They honestly didn't know what they were. No it wasn't acting. No it wasn't just "for the crowd" (though that did make it a hell of a lot of fun). No. It was just... them. They weren't exactly gay, and they weren't exactly straight. They just hadn't bothered to find a reason to label it. They enjoyed fucking with the system wholeheartedly, but that wasn't it. It wasn't rebellion. It was just them. They both thought the other was pretty. Gerard knew Frank had had a crush on him before Frank was even in the band. But they didn't date each other. Oh they were attracted to each other, for sure, but it was different. And they weren't "suppressing" anything either.  No. This was entirely different than anything they, or their other band mates, had ever seen. And that's how they'd always been. 

Gerard said he never acted on stage and he meant it. Adrenaline from the show was a factor in the stage kisses, yes. But it wasn't the reason. They kissed often, and they really had made some sort of low-key pact long ago that if Frank did hit a certain (then seemingly ancient) age without being married, they'd figured they'd just marry each other. And Gerard had married Lindsey before then, and they were good with that. They were chill. Not many people were these days. Frank'd met Jamia and they were chill with that too. Why not? They asked. And no one ever answered because no one saw it necessary. They'd said they loved each other many times.  Countless times, actually. And somewhat inconceivably to some, they meant it and were best friends. It was possible for them and they loved it. They always would. They loved that.

The eyeliner-clad puppy beside Gerard was staring mindlessly at the screen in front of them, the insistent pouting forgotten. He now looked up at his best friend, who in turn smiled down at him softly.

"Is it any better?" Gerard asked again. Frank shook his head, the pout returning. "Could anything make it better?" Frank smiled at this and propped up on his elbow in order to be on the same level with his friend. "Maybe." he smirked, only slightly wincing at the pain's insistent return. "You could kiss it better and that might help a little tiny bit." he grinned. "You're a little shit though, you know Frankie."  Gerard laughed amiably. Frank furrowed his eyebrows in response, deciding against disturbing his precious face again.

"Welllll... I guess, you know, if it'd make you stop complaining... I guess I could bear it... probably..." He said, drawing out his words. Frank rolled his eyes and pulled him closer, abandoning being propped on his inked elbow and snuggling him close, making sure his face was within eventual kissing distance. Gerard smirked and leaned in to carefully place his soft lips on Frank's warm ones. The little shit really was abnormally warm, but Gerard wasn't exactly prone to violence; so he didn't entertain the thought of beating up some Claire's employees for very long.

If Frank ever said he didn't love Gerard's lips with his entire soul he was fucking lying. The singer was an absolutely amazing kisser, and he knew it, too. Frankie was a little saddened that his current situation called for upmost caution, but hey: Gerard's lips. On his. (Mental chorus of hallelujahs). 

Frank smiled into the kiss as his friend repeated the action, just as gingerly as before, placing his cool lips just beside Frank's offending piercing. "It's gonna feel fine in a few days, Frankie." He promised. "And then you'll forget how bad it ever felt and you'll probably love it." He said, gently stroking the little punk's hair. "Besides, I bet it'll be worth some fun later on." Frank closed his eyes and smiled. Gerard always did know what to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
